In the middle of May, Ray finished up his European interviews and came back home to bid farewell to his wife and son. Ben and Grandma Emily’s funeral was set for May 17th.
On the day of the funeral, the sky was a gloomy shade of gray, heavy with clouds, and the air felt thick and suffocating. Fifteen kilometers north of the Fisher family estate lay their private cemetery. Generations of Fisher ancestors rested here, their tombstones standing in neat rows like silent sentinels, bearing witness to countless farewells.
Now, two new headstones joined them, etched with the names, birth dates, and passing dates of the departed. Mourners, clad in black, their faces etched with sorrow, slowly made their way into this peaceful place. The graves were arranged one above the other, marking the different generations. Bouquets and wreaths surrounded the tombstones.
The ceremony commenced, the minister's voice low and solemn, guiding everyone through prayers and memories. Heads bowed in silent mourning, as time seemed to slow to a crawl, heavy with emotion. Finally, it was time for goodbyes. One by one, mourners stepped forward, placing white lilies at the graves.
Despite past disagreements with the Fisher family, Javier and Linda still attended. They laid their lilies down and offered condolences to the three Fisher family members standing nearby.
After the funeral, a young woman in a black dress with a white flower in her hair approached. “Mr. Fisher, Rose,” she greeted. Ray gave a nod in response. Rose replied, “Clara.”
The woman greeted Ray and Rose, then turned her attention to the stern-faced man beside them, her gaze softening slightly, “Joshua.” Joshua remained stoic, his tone polite yet distant, “Thank you for coming all the way back for my father and grandmother’s funeral.”
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